


The Sultan of Snooker

by Caedmon



Series: Doctor/Rose Prompts [2]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Bets & Wagers, F/M, Fluff, I'm almost ashamed, Pool & Billiards, Sexual Tension, The Author Regrets Nothing, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, but I'm actually not at all, this is so silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2015-11-04
Packaged: 2018-04-30 02:00:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5146106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caedmon/pseuds/Caedmon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Doctor and Rose make a bet on a game of pool. Rose plays dirty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Sultan of Snooker

**Author's Note:**

> Let me just get this out of the way: I regret _nothing_. Not one little bit of this silly-ass little fic. 
> 
> I rated it M because of the copious amount of blatant innuendo and some swearing. 
> 
> I own nothing but the mistakes.  
> I love you all. I want you to know that I mean that.  
> caedmonfaith.tumblr.com
> 
> Just as a note - I met my husband playing pool in a league. This may or may not be partially based on real experiences.
> 
> Credit for the idea of the stakes at risk goes to my dear friend Mary, who is incredibly clever and made me laugh right out loud when she suggested it.
> 
> Oh my word, this is so freaking silly. I'm almost sorry.

“There’s no way you can beat me, Rose Tyler.”

Rose slipped into her heeled boots and looked over at the Doctor, smiling as she zipped them up. “Is that right?”

“Oh, yes, indeed. You have absolutely no chance of beating me.”

Rose pursed her lips around a smile and gave a single nod. “Alright then. We’ll see.”

“I mean, think about it, Rose. I have a complete and thorough understanding of physics, and really, that’s all billiards is. It’s physics. This ball hits this ball and goes into that pocket." He gestured to indicate invisible balls and a pocket. "It’s all about angles and trajectory and speed and I’m a _genius_ at all of those things.”

“Is that why I hear you say, ‘oops, wrong planet’ at least once a week? Because you’re so excellent at speed and trajectory?”

“ _Oi!_ ” 

Rose smirked and zipped up her other boot. “You think you’ve got this in the bag, Doctor, but you’re going down.” He quirked an eyebrow at her. “Tonight, in the pub.” Both eyebrows disappeared under his fringe. “Oh, stop, you randy old perv. You know what I mean.”

Rose stood to her feet and the Doctor would have expected her to teeter on the heels of those boots. He thought privately that how she walked so gracefully on her tiptoes, resting on a heel an inch wide and a half-inch thick spike that added an additional four inches of height was a matter of physics he truly didn’t understand, but he’d be buggered if he admitted that out loud.

It prompted a question, though. “Why are you so dressed up to go to the pub? We’re just meeting Shareen and her bloke, yeah?”

“M’not dressed up, Doctor, I’m just wearing regular clothes.”

The Doctor took in her appearance and silently but vehemently disagreed. She bent over to her vanity, checking her makeup and reaching for the lipstick and he tried hard not to ogle. She caught him staring at her backside when she looked in the mirror, anyway.

“Problem, Doctor?” she asked, smugly.

He shook himself back into the moment. “No, no problem,” and his voice was an octave higher than normal. He cleared his throat and went on. “I just happen to think you’re rather...spiffy for a night at the pub.”

Rose grinned in the mirror. “Doctor, it’s just a baggy sweater and skinny jeans. It's hardly...spiffy.”

“What’s with the boots, then?” he challenged.

She shrugged and ran a finger under her eyelid. “We’re always wearing trainers so we can run around, away from revolutions and despots and whatnot. I haven’t had a chance to wear these boots yet, they need to be broken in. Besides,” she continued, adjusting her hair a little, “they put me at the perfect height to bend over the table.”

The Doctor tried hard not to let that visual get into his head. His voice was high again when he said, “Rose, high heels are terrible for your knees, hips and back. Maybe you should-”

“Nothing doing, Doctor.” Rose stood up and walked towards him, her hair and makeup finally to her satisfaction. “I don’t think one night in heels is going to do any permanent damage. Now, are you ready to be thoroughly spanked on the billards table?” His eyes widened and she rolled her own eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“Sounds intriguing, though.”

 _”Doctor..._ ”

“Alright. I just need to make absolutely sure that you understand that Muppets are on the line and you’re going to lose, badly. I am brilliant at billiards. I’m the sultan of snooker. I’m prodigious at pool. I’m astonishing at eight ball. I’m fearsome on the felt. I’m -”

Rose laughed. “I get it. You think you’re so impressive.”

“Oh, Rose Tyler,” he said, hooking his fingers in her belt loops and pulling her hips against his. “I think we established a long, long time ago just how … _impressive_ I am.”

She didn’t argue that point, but didn’t let him progress into other territory of impressiveness and make them late for the double date beyond the impressive snog he gave her.

~*~O~*~

The Doctor, last Time Lord of Gallifrey, Oncoming Storm and all around impressive bloke was in trouble. Serious trouble.

He was going to get beaten at pool - by a _girl_.

And not just any girl but Rose Tyler, the woman who held both of his hearts in his hands. 

He should have known better. He really should have. His stupid Time Lord ego ( _bigger on the inside_ , he thought sourly) had gotten the better of him, and she was currently beating him soundly in the back room of her local pub while they waited for Rose’s best mate and Shareen's flavor-of-the-week date. 

Not that Rose needed an audience. The Doctor preferred that she didn't actually. This view should be for no one but him, ever. _Ever._ She was currently bent over the table, her back to him, rocking her bottom side to side as she lined herself up to break.

The little minx knew exactly what she was doing. 

_Oh, he was in serious trouble._

The balls scattered every which way with her surprisingly powerful break and Rose sank two stripes and a solid.

She stood back up, smiling, holding the cue loosely in the circle of her hand, rather like...

“Looks like I’m stripes, Doctor.” 

She took a step towards him and he groaned internally at the tongue between her teeth. “You’re solid,” she said, low and seductive, brushing up against him.

Oh, he was so very, _very_ in trouble.

Rose went back to the table and assessed the situation, seemingly trying to determine which angle to approach the cue ball from. It wasn’t until she looked over at him that she made her decision. She grinned evilly and bent over, across the table from him. The Doctor was treated to a tantalizing view of her cleavage, pushed up by the black bra that was his favorite.

_Oh. Oooh. That was the appeal of a baggy sweater._

Rose sank the thirteen-ball, then shot at and missed the eleven.

“I believe it’s your turn, Doctor.”

“Quite right!” He squeaked a little and tried to ignore her smirk. “Watch and learn, Ms. Tyler.”

She raised an eyebrow at him and leaned back against the stool he had vacated. “Show me your moves, then, Doctor.”

He went to the table and made quick calculations. _If I bank at 48° I can hit the seven at a right angle, it will bounce off the...bloody hell, what is she doing with that beer?_

The waitress had just brought them drinks, and Rose had uncharacteristically ordered a bottle of alcoholic cider. Not-so-uncharacteristically, she was teasing him mercilessly. There was absolutely _no need_ for her to wrap her lips around...nope. Nope. He was not going to fall victim to that. He was a Time Lord, for heaven’s sake. 

He lined up his shot and tried very, very hard not to think about the way she smiled when she raised that bottle to her lips.

He missed his shot horribly.

Rose smirked and sauntered - _sauntered_ \- over to him, swaying her hips unnecessarily. “I think that makes it my turn, Doctor?”

_Minx._

“Why yes, yes it does.”

Rose circled the table, eyeing the balls and calculating just as he had done. Then, just as before, she looked over at him and grinned just a little before bending over the end of the table towards the cue ball. From this angle, the Doctor was not only treated to the sight of her cleavage but of her long, high-heeled legs spread slightly one in front of the other and the wiggle she gave her bum before she settled in to shoot. 

This time, however, he was very aware of the way her right arm swung in a pendulum motion back and forth as she practiced her shot, and the way the wood of the cue surged and retreated through her fingers.

Oh sweet Rassilon, God, and banana nut muffins, he was _so incredibly fucked._

He thought of his mental word choice for just a second and tilted his head. _Welll…_

The crack of the balls against each other pulled him out of a quick, erotic daydream (pub-dream?) and he watched the nine ball drop into the side pocket. She was stomping on him mercilessly. 

He was going down without a whimper. 

_'Going down'. Hmmm._

Slowly and seductively, she lined up for another shot and missed. 

_Thank God,_ he thought. His superior Time Lord biology could only do so much when she chalked her cue with much more thoroughness and hand-action than he was sure was necessary. He was getting perilously close to having to untuck his shirt to hide traitorous body parts that weren't doing what he told them to right now. _Fuck!_

_Well, now, there's another interesting choice of mental words._

_Dammit, Doctor!_

“Your shot,” she said, and damned if that tongue didn’t come out to peek at him. 

The Doctor had a run of two balls before missing on the third, and he cursed under his breath for more than the fact that he hadn’t sunk the two ball. His dismay and frustration was more because it was Rose’s turn again.

She made the most of it, _the tease_ , he thought. Rose was now looking at him boldly as she ran the cue between her fingers for just a moment before she placed her tongue between her teeth and lined up her shot, stroking the cue over and over again in apparent concentration.

“ _FORFEIT!_ I forfeit. You win,” he cried before she could actually shoot, laying his cue to the side and raising his hands in surrender. “I give up. You win, Rose.” 

She stood up and leaned against the pool table, crossing her arms and eyeing him triumphantly. “Can’t take it, old man?”

“Absolutely not.” 

“You realize that if you forfeit, you have to do what we agreed to.”

“Don’t give a damn right at the moment, to be honest.”

"Muppets," she reminded him.

"Absolutely could not give less of a damn right now, Rose," he reminded her.

“Well then,” she pushed off the table and sashayed over to him, laying her cue beside his and draping her arms around his neck, “by all means, I accept your surrender.”

~*~O~*~

“I wouldn’t have made you follow through, you know.”

“You would have, and don’t even bother lying about it.”

“But this is so _embarrassing,_ Rose!”

“That’s the point, Doctor.” She winked at him. “Now,” she said, grabbing a chef’s hat and placing it on top of his head, earning a very disgruntled grumble. “Mum and I will be waiting at the table. You know what to do.”

“See if I ever play billiards with you again, Rose Tyler.”

“Oh, I think you will. I very much want a rematch with you, o Sultan of Snooker.”

The Doctor grumbled again and tried to fight back a grin when she dropped a quick kiss to his lips. 

“Don’t forget the moustache!” she called over her shoulder when she pushed the door to the dining area open.

“Bloody damn hell, that woman is going to be the death of me,” he muttered as he stuck the stupid moustache on his upper lip then draped the white napkin over his arm.

The Doctor didn’t look at his own reflection in the glass when he pushed through the door and began to pay the penalty for losing at pool to Rose Tyler.

“Hellu, I im zee-a Ductur und tunight I vill be-a serfing yuou, zee-a greetest puol pleyer ouff ill time-a und yuou, zee-a beuotiffuol vumuon my Ruse-a gets her luoks frum. Bork Bork Bork!”

**Author's Note:**

> Translation: _Hello, I am the Doctor and tonight I will be serving you, the greatest pool player of all time and you, the beautiful woman my Rose gets her looks from._


End file.
